Memories of Love & Hate
by jessicalynnrand
Summary: Kind of a spin-off of the scene from the Dawn Treader. No major spoilers. Edmund reflects on the past memories he's had with the Witch and what's happening now. One-shot, for now.


Edmund stood on the Dawn Treader, the only thought in his mind was to protect the citizens of Narnia, Caspian, his cousin, and most importantly, Lucy. He knew she was standing somewhere behind him, her pale body shaking as she tried to remain brave. They needed to get this last sword - to get away from this island. With his eyes focused on the land ahead of him, he saw something green floating towards them, the same mist that he had been seeing in his dreams for the past few nights - the mist which always revealed the witch to him.

He was terrified of this woman, and yet he could hardly understand. He had been so young in naive, she had take advantage of him. He remembered when he had gone to her castle for the first time. She had stood in front of him, her tall, lenient body standing so powerfully, as if she could strike him down with a wrinkle of her nose. Everything had been ice, even her eyes resembled the cold, and yet he couldn't help but to look into them. It was as if she were under some sort of trance that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't escape from. Her black eyes had scolded him for arriving alone and he had apologized, spilling out any information that he could think of to just win her approval back. He had covered up his reason for going there with saying that he wanted more Turkish delight, when he really just desperately wanted to hide his love for her. He never thought that a woman could be so terrifying, yet so beautiful at the same time.

And yet he also remembered the moment where she had slapped him after getting upset over the fox being frozen. She had hit him with such force, as if she could care less what happened to him. It was in that moment where he had realized what he had done to everybody around him. He wasn't going to reveal any more information about anything. He didn't want to hurt anybody else in this land.

Edmund watched the mist get closer and closer. He wanted to turn, he wanted to run away from it, but seeing as they were on a boat and the fates of everybody on it depended on the next hour of events, he couldn't leave. The green mist came closer and he saw it splitting, heading towards different individuals. Then he saw the face of the air meant for him. The witch's face was still pale, even though it was tinted green. _Edmund,_ she'd whisper, her voice as soft as silk. He tried to ignore her, but her figure was too much for him. _Edmund, listen to me. I need your help, Edmund. I need a king. Be my king, Edmund._ He shook his head violently, as if trying to get her out. "Stop it, you're… you're dead," but he knew that saying this wouldn't help. _I'll always exist in your mind, Edmund. Help me._ He had helped her before, and those days had nearly been the death of him and his family. He couldn't go back. He'd grown up so much, gotten so far, learned far more than he ever would have with the witch. Her pale green figure drew closer to him, now only inches away. _Edmund, please. You're my only hope._ She raised a long icicle finger and ran it alongside his cheek. The touch made his body go numb. He felt tears beginning to come to his eyes. Did she think he was just going to forget about the things she'd done to him? She had bewitched him, made him feel special when he was nothing more than bait. She had threatened his life on numerous occasions, as he could not forget the time when she had pointed at him in front of everybody fighting for Aslan, saying that he would be the one to die, simply because she said so.

_Edmund, save me, help me…_ He couldn't take it anymore. He covered his ears, but her voice still got into his mind. The witch's face was still directly in front of his. Around him, men were staring weak-kneed in front of their bodies as they faced their own fears. However, he couldn't shake the witch, no matter how hard he tried. _King, _she whispered again. Edmund lowered his hands from his ears. "I am not a King. There are many more important things to me than power. If you think that I am willing to give up my family for you, you can think again." Before he could let the witch protest, his sword, which for the past few moments had been held limply at his side, was now raised. He slashed through her spirit. The mist disappeared as her scream filled the skies. She was gone, if only for that moment in time.


End file.
